


Dead Man's Hand

by englishrose2011



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishrose2011/pseuds/englishrose2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mozzie visits Peter and Elizabeth it's to tell them a secret that will change forever their understanding of their  connection with Neal Caffrey</p>
<p>An Old West Prequel to "The Nature of the Beast" a Supernatural White Collar story</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Supernaturals have been known since before the Civil War. Both the Union and the Confederacy used vampires and werewolves in their armies, but when the war ended, they faced persecution from “God-fearing” men who tried to burn them out when they tried to return to their lives and homes.  
> A large majority of them went underground, showing only their human side to the world, hoping to be forgotten. Others went rogue, cutting bloody swaths through the countryside, and had to be hunted down and destroyed. By the middle of the 20th Century they had once again become nothing but myths, largely forgotten, or just stories to frighten young children with at night.  
> That was until the Second World War, when to help fight a greater evil; they again came forward to stand side by side with their human brethren;. only this time, when the war ended, the supernaturals didn’t go away.  
> Werewolves: The most powerful of the werewolves were the Grand Lupines or Great Wolves. Known as the Alphas they could assume three forms…that of a man, that of a wolf and that of a hybrid of man and wolf. There were only two ways to become a werewolf the first was to be bitten by a werewolf during the full moon the second was to be born into a werewolf family.  
> Vampires came in two species; The Dark Vampires which were immortal could change into wolves and slept through the day only rising at night and returning to their resting place at dawn. The other species, The Day Walkers could consume food and drink but needed a small amount of blood to survive as they took nourishment from the food they ate. They could walk in the sunlight but it took a lot of their energy so if they were denied blood they would…like their dark brethren…be consumed by the sunlight and burned to ash. Day walkers were mortal but just aged very slowly and were unable to change their form  
> Ghouls: are demons; they are grotesque looking, of similar size to an ape, but with large misshapen heads, red glowing eyes, and have powerful shoulders and haunches. They can run fast on all fours; their claws are thick and sharp, which allow them to dig up decaying corpses. These ghouls only live five years unless they can assume human form by drawing the life force of humans through the Blood Moon Ritual – the sacrificial massacre of humans and the consummation of their living flesh. If the Blood Moon fails, as dawn breaks the ghouls are destroyed by the first rays of light. A Ghoul Elder has the job of preparing the Blood Moon sacrifice; his or her duty is to stand by and not interfere, and the young ghouls must succeed or fail on their own. But sometime rules are forgotten when the threat to the young is too great.  
> Nisse; are from the same family as Gnomes though they are beardless. Skilled in illusions they are believed to be able to shape shift. Though protective and caring in nature they are capable of fearsome retribution if someone they hold dear is hurt or killed.

The Present

Mozzie stood outside of the Burke’s house and clutched the messenger bag a little closer to his body. What he was about to do Neal might see as a betrayal, but he loved Neal like a brother, and would do anything to see him happy and contented. 

Taking a deep breath, he started across the road and up the stairs to knock on the door.

0-0-0-0-0

Peter was hard at work; most people thought—because of TV series and films—that the life of an FBI agent was one of exciting car chases and elaborate sting operations; if only they knew that paperwork and more paperwork were the keystone of a good investigation, they would soon see it in a different light. He had tried to explain that to his brilliant, quirky, but impulsive partner and mate, Neal Caffrey. Not that it did much good. 

The mortgage case he was working on was a prime example;, it wasn’t exactly setting the night on fire and so when El answered the door and Mozzie came in, he was prepared to take a break. One look at the small mole-like man’s face and he was on his feet, and the first words out of his mouth were, “Okay, what’s he done this time?” knowing that only Neal could get Mozzie into this state.

But the smaller man shook his head. “It’s not what he’s done, Suit, it’s what he needs; I think we need to talk.”

Mozzie sat at the table, carefully placed the messenger bag in front of him, and removed an old cardboard box;. The scotch tape was brittle and cracked as he opened the lid and carefully peeled back the yellowing tissue paper. El and Peter leaned forward to see what was inside as Mozzie explained. 

“Neal wouldn’t be happy that I am showing you this, but it needs doing.” He reached into the box and removed a photograph, and whatever Peter was going to add was forgotten as he saw the image on it. 

There was Neal dressed in the style of an Old West gambler, with a frock coat, ruffled shirt, waistcoat, and a tied-down holster strapped to his leg;. He knew that Neal was a vampire, and the younger-looking man had spoken of—as a breathing man—surviving the Battle of Gettysburg. So Neal would have been around at that time,… but seeing this picture of Neal as a gambler was amazing: the dress and the profession fitted him perfectly—there had to be a story behind it, and he was interested to hear it. But before he could ask, Mozzie took another picture from the picture made Peter sit up straighter… because the man was the image of Peter himself.He took the picture from Mozzie, turning it for El to look at. Then he carefully examined it; the man was slightly thicker set, and was wearing the kind of mustache that Kurt Russell had worn in the film Tombstone. It had to be an ancestor of his; werewolves were not immortal—they just aged slower than normal mortals, but they still died. He knew his clan's history, so why hadn’t he ever seen a picture of his man before? The man’s hand was resting on the shoulder of a woman sitting by his side; she was young and attractive. She was looking up at the man, and for El the picture spoke volumes, because she had seen a similar look of love in her wedding photographs when she had looked at Peter; this couple was very much in love. 

“If this is a joke or, heaven forbid, a con, Mozzie—” Peter began an incipient growl rumbled in his throat, as the alpha in him gave warning that he better not be lying.

But the smaller man cut him off. “This is real, Suit; I was there when they took the pictures.” Mozzie paused.

He was about to continue when Peter said, tapping the picture “We never pried into what you are, but I think we have to know now. We guessed you were a supernatural, and an old friend of Neal; these pictures show us you knew him in the late 1800’s, so how long have you known him Mozzie?” 

Mozzie looked thoughtful, and Peter wasn’t sure if he was going to get a reply, the smaller man was paranoid and he wouldn’t be surprised if Mozzie just cut him dead. But instead he said “In May of 1865, Confederate Captain Neal Caffrey was released from Camp Douglas a Union Army prison camp. Just like nearly 2000 other former Confederate soldiers he refused to take the Oath of Allegiance, so instead of getting transport home, which he would have got if he had taken the oath, he was left to make his own way. When I first met him he was sick, starving and dressed in the rags of his uniform and he was about to be hung for stealing food. I had money and paid them for what he had stolen, a couple of mouldy apples and quarter of a stale loaf of bread. You see it wasn’t Neal it was the fact that he was just one of many beggars that had flooded their town, and he was the one that got caught and was going to pay for it as a warning for the rest of them.”

Peter saw the silent tear the trickled down Mozzie’s face as he continued “I paid them much more than it was worth, and had him bundled into my wagon, and we got out of there, Neal was too sick to do much more than hang on.”Mozzie closed his eyes, as he shook his head, “Suit, he nearly died, it was only because of my knowledge knowledge of herbs and medicine that he lived. So yes when we met, Neal was mortal. He was my responsibility, and my biggest regret is that I was unable to stop the attack in New Orleans that changed him.” 

Peter could see the misery on Mozzie’s face as he relived what had happened. For them it was history. For Mozzie it was a very real memory. “Neal told me he was turned in New Orleans, he joked that it was so very Anne Rice of him.” 

“He would Suit, but the honest truth is that the bitch that did it to him left Neal dying,” Mozzie dashed the tears from his eyes, it was the first time that Peter heard real bitterness in the smaller man’s voice “I couldn’t turn him back to human ….he was too far gone, …but he was turned enough to become a day walker. You have to take what you can get in this life” 

So if Neal’s a vampire, what are you?” Peter asked his eyes never leaving Mozzie’s face,. This had to be the smaller man’s choice to answer; he had already talked more than he had ever done before. The smaller man took his glasses off and polished them in short jerking motions showing how agitated he was, then with a steading breath he put them back on. 

“I am a Nisse. We are from the same family as Gnomes: we are not immortal, but like the day-walking Vampires we are long lived, and I would protect Neal as if he was my own offspring, Suit. That aside, back to what is important. You need to know that for Neal, what you three have together now is the most precious thing in the world to him. But Neal is frightened that it can’t last and it’s only a matter of time before you tire of him.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Peter stated levelly.

“Who are they?” El asked no longer able to stem her curiosity.

“This is your Great Uncle and Aunt, Suit, six times over; Samuel Joseph Burke, and his wife Abigail Victoria Burke.” He reached into the box and took another picture out.

This was one just of Samuel and Neal standing together. It was then Peter noticed the badge on his double's jacket. “A sheriff and a gambler; unusual,” he remarked, looking at Mozzie.

“No different from an FBI agent and a con man, Suit,” Mozzie replied. “They worked well together, and the town of Lucky Strike, New Mexico, saw good service from them. It was because of them ...” He tapped the picture. “... that Neal,… even when you were hunting him, tried to keep close to you. It was one of the things that Kate hated—Neal’s need to be close to you.”

“Why did you bring the pictures to us now?” El asked.

“Because you need to know that you can both so easily destroy him;. In loving you both, Neal has put all the power in your hands.” He tapped the pictures. “When he left them, he found others that he thought could replace the love he had for them, only to find that those people just wanted immortality from him, and when he refused, they turned on him. 

“Even his beloved Kate ...” The sarcasm in Mozzie’s voice told Peter and El volumes of what he had thought of the woman that so nearly destroyed Neal. “... was just the last in a long line of them. But he could never see that.” Mozzie shook his head ruefully, as if clearing away the memories.

Peter turned Mozzie’s attention back to the pictures. “My family history as Alphas of our clan is well documented. There are no records of a Samuel Burke that I remember, and surely Neal Caffrey, a vampire, would have featured in our oral history?”

“That is what you would think, Suit, but it’s never as straightforward as that. Samuel wasn’t as yet an Alpha Werewolf, when he boarded the stagecoach with his wife that morning, on his way to Lucky Strike; he was as human as the next man.” 

“He was the oldest of five brothers, with the right of being the first to challenge his father when he came of age to become the new Alpha. But he didn’t come into his powers. So Samuel became the pariah of his litter and was banned from his clan. He told me that during the Civil War he served in the Union Army and was wounded at the Battle of Shiloh. He met and married his nurse, Abigail Carter, a feisty, independent woman who was very much his equal.” Mozzie’s voice softened as he smiled. “I have never seen two people as bonded together as them…. until I saw you two.” 

“So what happened? How did the three of them meet up and what happened to them?” El asked as she reached for the picture showing the three of them together.

Mozzie looked down at the picture in the box of the four of them—the Burkes, Neal and himself—standing in the front of a saloon. “ Well, it all started one dark and stormy day; don’t all good horror stories start that way?”


	2. Chapter 2

1870

The sky was dark with a storm that had been building since early afternoon. Lightning flashed across the sky, the crash of thunder rolled across the countryside as the stagecoach came flying along the road, through the driving rain, with Frank Murphy hunched over the reins, his eyes fixed on the road and his team. Because of a broken wheel, they were now in danger of not reaching the way station blockhouse before sunset; if they arrived once the sun had set, the blockhouse would remain closed to them. There were never any exceptions. 

At one time all Frank would have had to worry about were bandits and the odd hostile war party. But now creatures of hell walked the earth, ready to prey on anyone out alone in the badlands. 

He felt a shudder go through his spine, and he knew that it wasn’t caused by the rain that had soaked through his clothes; it was this stretch of the route, called Butcher’s Paradise.

Ever since the massacre five years ago when a late-arriving stagecoach had allowed some hellish creatures of the night to attack the blockhouse and slaughter everyone inside stories were told of travellers going missing, and stagecoaches chased by hell's own creatures. Of course—he kept telling himself—he had never met anyone who had known someone that went missing or had seen these creatures first-hand, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. You didn’t have to put your hand in a fire to know that it was hot. Also they wouldn’t make the rules about no admittance after dark unless there was a threat he argued to himself.

Frank glanced up at the sky and used his whip to urge the horses faster, time was running out for them. Glancing at Greg Lawson, his shotgun guard, he saw his worry mirrored in the man’s face; it was going to be a close call.

Suddenly through the veil of rain he saw a man in the road, the wind whipping a long duster around his legs, his hat pulled down over his face, shielding it from the rain. He had a Winchester in one hand pointed towards the ground. 

Frank pulled on the reins hard; the horses sank back on their haunches as they came to a halt as Lawson brought his shotgun up to train it on the mystery man.

“Unless you’ve got a death wish, boy, get out of the way,” Frank snapped at him even as his hand dropped to his own gun looking around in case this was a trap.

“I can’t do that; we need a ride.” The young man’s voice had the soft accent of the south. “We can pay,” he said as he tilted his head so that for the first time Frank could see his face. 

“We?.” Frank looked around, and it was only then he saw the smaller man come into view, a Derby hat on his head, looking at odds with his duster. He was blinking at them through his glasses as he tried to wipe the rain from them. He bobbed his head in greeting as he laid a large carpetbag down on the ground with a huffas if he was out of breath. 

For a long moment Frank and Greg exchanged a look; their orders were simple—never stop, ride over anyone that got in their way—but they had broken that rule, and these men needed their help. Frank frowned, to leave them behind could be their death sentence so with a sigh Frank jerked a thumb back towards the coach. “Get in boy’s, otherwise all of us will be spending the night out here.” 

The younger man grinned, and the next minute the two of them were climbing on board and even as the door was closing Frank was whipping up the horses as he raced against the setting sun. 

The newcomers sat down opposite the couple, the younger man favoring the other passengers with a smile as he touched the brim of his hat to the lady. “I am sorry about delaying your journey Sir, Madam, but our need was great. I am Nicholas Halden and this is Professor Havisham.”

“Professor?,” the man said; the younger man looked the speaker up and down, his keen eyes picking out the sheriff’s badge pinned on the man’s shirt even in the half darkness when he leaned forward in his seat. 

“He is a Professor of Life, Mister…?” Halden asked.

“Burke, Samuel Burke.” 

“Of Springfield Flats?”

“Among other places,” Samuel said; the younger man gave him a slight knowing smile.

“It’s nice to know that we are in such good hands.” Halden said thoughfully.

Samuel couldn’t work out if the younger man was being sarcastic or truly believed it; also, at the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think that he should know the name of Nicholas Halden, Nicholas … Nick … Nick Halden, but the name remained elusive. 

0-0-0-0-0

The coach rocked and rolled over the badly-rutted road the mud making it slide as it took the corners at speed swaying like a ship in a storm. But even as he muttered prayers and oaths, Frank’s experienced hands kept the team and the coach on the road. Finally Frank saw the blockhouse appearing out of the growing gloom the yellow of the lamps welcoming him and his passengers. He heard the bell being rung; the coach had been spotted and the stable hands rushed out ready to catch the horses. Looking across at his friend, Frank threw his head back and gave a rebel yell of delight. They were safe. 

The two stable hands grabbed the horses, quickly leading them to the blockhouse stable they didn’t waste time getting the passengers out of the coach until it was safe behind locked doors. Only now were the passengers allowed out the manager's wife leading them through the connecting door into the main building, leaving the two men caring for the coach and the horses. 

0-0-0-0-0 

Outside true darkness rolled over the land. Frank paused in mid-sentence to Jess Evans- the manager- as he heard a cry shatter the night. He exchanged a concerned look with him, and Evans shook his head.

“It’s just a coyote, Frank.” He added, looking thoughtfully at him, “You were cutting it fine. What happened?”

“We had to have the wheel replaced at Morgan Creek, and then we picked those two up." He jerked a thumb at the two men walking behind the husband and wife. To stem off Jess’s angry words, Frank raised his hand. “I know, Jess, but he was blocking the way and I couldn’t ride over the man.”

Evans watched the two men thoughtfully, and then said, “Well, what’s done is done,” but his displeasure showed in his voice.

“I told you….” Frank said quickly, trying to defend himself, but then he broke off as he heard a coyote howling again.

“He better keep quiet if he knows what’s good for him,” Evans mused, and then in mid-howl the coyote was cut off, and another creature took up the song. Jess gave him a knowing smile that sent Frank cold 

The sooner he got away from this place the better. Hell, everyone on the stage line knew that they had to pay double to get drivers for this route. After this run, he was quitting, and to hell with what Greg said; he could find himself a new driver. 

“What name did they give you?” Evans asked, bringing Frank back to the present.

“We didn’t have time for that. Hell, Jess, we only just made it as it was; if we had stopped to play twenty questions we would be out there playing tag with a band of God knows what.” 

But Evans just turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a worried Frank to hurry after him. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Samuel was seated with Abigail at one of the tables in the dining room; now out of the darkness of the coach he studied the two newcomers that had joined them so dramatically. Nicholas Halden was a Southerner, and even though he had fought on the Union side himself, Samuel felt no animosity towards him. He was in his mid to late twenties, dark haired, and good looking. He had removed the long duster, and was dressed in a black coat and pants; his waistcoat was black with silver on it and his shirt had ruffles up the front of it. A professional gambler judging by his dress The smaller man was hunched over his mug of coffee with his derby hat lain on the table. He was losing his hair, the steam of the coffee was misting up his glasses, and he had his knitted scarf pulled up around his ears—he looked like a whiskey drummer. In his job Samuel had to have a good memory for faces and he couldn’t get over the feeling that he should know the younger man. 

The howling, which until now had been faint, became louder and was right outside the door, There was the sound of clawed feet on the porch of the blockhouse, followed by scratching against the shuttered windows, walls and across the roof. 

Nick Halden couldn’t help but cast an admiring glance at the woman from the coachShe was scared—who wouldn’t be?—but she kept her fear at bay, only showing it in the way she pressed closer to her husband, her hand resting on his, needing reassurance in his touch, but she met his gaze levelly. 

Spirit—he liked that in a woman ----- he could feel himself drawn to her. 

But she was already taken by Sheriff Burke, he reminded himself. You only had to see the way the two of them were together to see that he was her world. Nick turned his attention to Burke, the Governor’s own pet law enforcer. Burke had a reputation as a good, honest sheriff, two things that made the man dangerous to him. He couldn’t help but smile at the way that Mozzie buried his head, like a turtle pulling his head into his shell, as if by doing that it would make him invisible to the sheriff. 

The creatures outside began to throw themselves at the door for a heart-stopping moment he thought that the wooden brace of the door was going to give. In that instant, Nick was on his feet, his gun in his hand, as Mozzie grabbed a sawn-off shotgun from his bag and took his place at his side. 

Looking across at Burke, he saw that he was putting himself between danger and his wife, but Nick couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when he saw the gun in her hand. 

It seemed the lady was no wilting violet, but ready to join in. He noticed her looking at him, and he gave her a nod of the head at the gun, as he smiled back at her. 

Then his attention was back on the door and shuttered windows as the wood flexed against the weight of the creatures as they threw themselves against it. But again it held, and just as suddenly as it has started they stopped and it went quiet. 

Reaching into his pocket Nick pulled out a pocket watch, opening it he checked the time. They had three hours to midnight, and it looked like no one was going to get any sleep.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Samuel saw Halden pick up his cup and give a slight nod of the head towards the coffeepot; leaning close, Samuel had a quick word with Abigail, then went over to join the young gambler there. 

He offered his cup and Halden filled it for him. Samuel gave him a thoughtful look. “I have a feeling that I should know your name.” He gave a wry smile. “There wouldn’t be a wanted poster out on you, Mr. Halden, would there?” 

“Nothing that you need worry about, Sheriff Burke. The threat is outside;. You have my word on that.” 

Samuel nodded thoughtfully; for some reason he believed him. “So what do you make of it? They're not werewolves. An Alpha would have had that door down in a heartbeat—the protection spells are pretty lame.”

“That’s what we were thinking,” Nick said, then added, “Have you noticed the things in this room?” 

Samuel looked around casually but before he could answer, Nick added, “It’s like a magpie’s nest. A box of children’s toys, but no children; a woman’s coat that’s too small for the lady of the house. More shovels that you could use in a year, yet they're all rusty and blunt.”

Seeing that Samuel had caught on, he continued, “Exactly what man buys all this…? And what settlers would leave their spades and forks behind them?”

Samuel noticing Jess Evans looking at them from the kitchen door; there was something about the man that was getting Samuel on edge. He put his cup down and refilled it, pausing only to rub at his fingers;. There seemed to be an aching in all his joints and his nails seemed to throb, as if they were trying to burst out of his fingers. 

What the hell was happening to him?

0-0-0-0-0

From his position at the kitchen door, Jess Evans watched as the four passengers got together around one of the tables. He turned on his heels and went back in to his wife, who was dishing up a pile of steaming stew to Frank and Greg. It was a pity about them; he actually liked them, but every five years if there wasn’t a blood sacrifice, his children of the night would be unable to take human form. Only the flesh of the living eaten at midnight during the Blood Moon could give them the ability to take human form as they absorbed the human life force. Soon the time would be here; his children would burst into the blockhouse. Those that survived the fight with the humans to claim their prize would be worthy to change to the higher form.

0-0-0-0-0

Mozzie didn’t waste time. “Badge.” He nodded to Samuel. “Mrs. Badge.” A nod to Abigail. “Stopping your coach was no accident; the reason that we are here is because tonight is the Blood Moon, and on this night the Ghoul that masquerades as the manager here will try to sacrifice us—just as he did the other passengers five years ago—to his children. This place is a flytrap, Badge, and we are the flies. So I think if I told you that we are on the menu, I don’t think that I would be far wrong.”

Mozzie nodded to Nick. “A good friend of ours travelled to Lucky Strike, and never made it back;. It took us a while to put the pieces together, but we finally located this place and discovered its link with the Ghoul pack up in the hills. Other than trying to track the pack down and destroy them in hills, which was virtually impossible as there are too many places to hide. The only other way is to wait until the Blood Moon and then deprive them of their sacrifice. We decided that it be best if we arrived with the other passengers; trouble was we missed the stagecoach and had to ride like Hades to get ahead of you.”

He lapsed in silence as Mrs. Evans came over with a tray full of steaming stew. Once she was gone, Mozzie waved a hand over it; the small crystal he held in it glowed, and he shook his head.  
Puzzled, Samuel said, “What’s wrong with it?”

“There’s long pork in there,” he paused when he saw the puzzled look of Mrs. Burke, “human flesh, the Manager and his wife are preparing the way for their brood. Their young must chase after humans, kill them, and consume their flesh for it’s only on the night of the Blood Moon that they can absorb our life force and use it to shape shift into human form. You have seen the stable hands here have grey skin and blood shot eyes… they have been poisoned by the bite of a Ghoul, changing them into creatures of the Elder. He needs them to make sure that the station runs smoothly to avoid any one looking too closely at whatis happening here. . They are no more than human husks.” 

Abigail looked shocked, but her voice was steady, as she asked “Professor Havisham, why is it so important to them that we eat this long pork.” 

“Many people have answers for that question, but all are different., I personally believe that it is connected with the Wendigo legend. A Wendigo is a creature that was once a man, but for some reason they eat human flesh normally as a last to extreme starvation or desperation , such as with the Donner Party of 1846 and in time became a Wendigo, human meat making them they stronger, faster and almost impossible to kill. I believe that the ghouls need us to eat the long pork so that our bodies are tainted by it in some way, and when they take our life force, it also takes the seeds of the Wendigo and that allows them to change into a superior into human form. But not all of them can do that, and as Herbert Spencer said it is the survival of the fittest. Any of the ghoul young that is unable to claim one of us will be destroyed by the first ray of dawn tomorrow. Only a successful ghoul will survive to leave here and start their own packs. Mr Charles Darwin’s, origins of the species in its purest form.” 

He reached for the cup of coffee that Nick pushed towards him, and heaped sugar into it, and continued.

“Only by working together can we defeat them; the Elder and his wife will not normally interfere once the Blood Moon rites begin. Ghouls believe that their young should fight for themselves. Only the strongest will be able to claim our life force. If they are successful they will be able to shift into human form, and go west to create their own packs while the others are destroyed by the dawn light . We have until Midnight to prepare for them, if… no.., when we’re successful ..we will then have to kill the Elder and his wife…., and the stable hands of course,… none of them can be allowed to leave here alive.” 

Seeing the look on Samuel’s face, Mozzie added, “They are the Elder’s creatures, bound to him, unable to die unless he releases them., Kill him and their souls are free. That is the only thing we can do for them now.”


	3. Chapter 3

The big clock ticked down the time to midnight. Greg and Frank were enjoying a nip from the bottle that Jess Evans had supplied; it was clear to Samuel that the two men were unhappy about being there. He got up to walk over to them, meaning for them to join them at his table. When the time came they would need all the guns they could get. 

The manager’s wife, a small shrewish woman, beat him to it. Picking up the bottle they had been sharing she smashed it to the ground as she hissed in their ears; suddenly subdued, the two men got up and followed her into the kitchen 

Before he could follow them, Samuel glanced at the clock; it was midnight, and the creatures were throwing themselves at the door in a frenzied attack. 

Abigail moved back behind Samuel her gun at the ready; Mozzie moved to her side, his sawed-off shotgun in his hands. Samuel and Nick fanned out in front of them this way with the wall to their backs none of the hellish creatures could get behind them and to get close they would have to make it through a hail of lead and silver bullets

They all felt the moment that the door protection spell was lifted from the door. For a moment it was as if the air was sucked from the room, leaving them gasping for breath. The door was flung open.

What hit them first was the rotting stench of the ghouls' bodies, the creatures with their blood-red eyes and filthy matted furry bodies pushed and clawed at each other in their frenzy to get to them through the door, causing the creatures to become jammed in the doorway. It was for only a matter of seconds but it was the advantage that the passengers needed. 

Samuel felt Nick’s hand on his arm, and he was pulled to one side, allowing Mozzie to fire both barrels at the struggling animals. The silver shot in his cartridges bowled the ghouls over, as they started forward. 

Nick and Samuel opened fire, protecting Mozzie as he reloaded, then parting to allow him to fire again. But even as they cut the ghouls down, the creatures were getting closer; each volley of shots dropped them nearer and nearer to them. 

One of the larger ghouls launched itself so that it hit the wall its powerful legs using the wall to rebound up into the air hurling itself at them with flashing teeth and claws.

“Nick down!” Mozzie screamed; the younger man dropped to his knees as Mozzie fired over his head, cutting the ghoul down in a spray of blood. But the pattern of fire was broken, and one of the ghouls saw its chance.

Samuel swung to try to cover Mozzie as he reloaded, but it was already too late. Abigail yelled at Samuel as she opened fire. This was the reason she had held fire, in case one of the creatures tried to punch its way through their defenses. She tried to cut the creature down as it headed straight for her husband, but she knew it was too little too late; the creature was already too close. 

Nick spun to face it; he tried to shoot but the hammer fell on an empty chamber. He dropped his gun and threw himself at the ghoul moving at a vampire’s inhuman speed he was a blur. Nick cannoned into it; together they rolled over and over. The ghoul hit the wall taking the impact and stunning the creature. Nick’s talon-like nails lashed across the ghoul's throat, and blood splattered across his face as he severed the creatures jugular, releasing the body with a loud snarling hiss Nick turned back to the fight. 

Seeing another ghoul trying to outflank Burke and Mozzie, he ran at the wall opposite; jumping, he went up the wall in a heartbeat and then leaped down landing heavily on the back of the ghoul his long talons ripping into the animal's back and neck. It reared back, bellowing in pain, but it was already too late; its cry ended in a wet coughing splutter as its throat was ripped out. 

Another of the creatures came barreling at him as he started to his feet gunshots tore into its head. Looking around, Nick saw Abigail lowering her gun, and quickly reloading again.

There was a sudden roar, and a larger, more powerful ghoul came crashing out of the kitchen; unlike the others it walked on two feet, its hands had curved long claws, its face was distorted —not human, nor fully Ghoul; it was Jess Evans. The rules of the Blood Moon were forgotten as the manager saw the vampire butcher the most promising of his young and surged forward in a killing rage.

Nick went at him knowing that he had to be stopped, only to be swiped away in mid-air as he tried to jump him. He hit a table and crashed through it onto the floor. Nick hauled himself up, and with a loud snarl he threw himself at the large ghoul again, but this time the blow from it threw him hard against the wall; he landed heavily, only this time he didn’t get up.

“Samuel.” Abigail’s voice cut through the sound of battle.

The Sheriff looked over at his wife, and saw her pointing. His head snapped around and he saw that Nick Halden was down. It was then that Samuel’s world changed; the pain that ripped through his body made him throw his head back and roar. But what came from his mouth was a sound that no human could make. 

He saw the ghoul’s clawed hand, already dripping with Halden’s blood, leaning over the gambler, ready to kill him. One minute Samuel was standing still, the next second he had covered the distance between them in a heartbeat, the pain in his hands gone as thick, razor-sharp claws erupted from , his fingers. Samuel ploughed into the ghoul and sent him tumbling away from his prey.

It turned fast to face Samuel. By now all trace of Samuel’s human self was gone—as he turned into an Alpha werewolf, it was in the wolf-man form that he attacked. There was no contest: he tore into the ghoul, one clawed hand disemboweling him, the other tearing out his throat. He threw back his head and roared—it bounced off the walls of the blockhouse. The moment he had changed, the few remaining ghouls had stopped their attack; they ran when they saw the body of their sire lying in a bloody heap on the floor. The threat they posed died with him; without the Blood Moon sacrifice, they would be dead by morning, their limited lifespan used up. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Nick shook his head trying to clear it but his vision was blurred. He tried to crawl but Samuel was suddenly on him;. The younger man looked up into the face of what had been Sheriff Samuel Burke, and Nick’s lips pulled back over his fangs as they fully extended. He snarled at him in defiance; if he was going to die it would be in his true nature, as a vampire.

But the clawed hand that reached out to him instead of tearing into his flesh just clumsily petted him. Samuel discovered he was unable to talk in this form, so he made a low rumbling noise at the back of his throat, to try to reassure him that he was safe. 

Abigail was quickly by Samuel’s side, her love for her husband overriding her fear of him in this form. Reaching up a hand she squeezed her husband’s shoulder, reinforcing their connection with touch, the connection that she had felt with him since the first time they had laid together crackled and hummed between them. Her calming influence ran through Samuel and he found he could center himself and allow the man to return. Samuel was shaking badly as for the first time his body changed back; his eyes, when they met Abigail, were shocked. 

“I changed, but I can’t....” he trailed off, looked at the vampire at his feet, and then to his wife, and one word burned through his mind: life mate. Both of them were his mate, but Halden was a man; it couldn’t be....

Before he could panic, Abigail was there. “Later, Samuel; we have things do. Later.” 

He looked down at Nick, and somehow managed to form the words, “Are you all right?” 

Nick nodded, making an effort to retract his fangs, his talons became fingernails again. Now human, he reached out and accepted Samuel’s hand to help him to his feet.

“Seems we both had secrets,” Nick said, as he limped across to where Mozzie was waiting for him. 

“Mr. Halden.” He looked around to see Mrs. Burke offering him his gun; he nodded his thanks. 

“We're not out of the woods yet.” He nodded towards the door the manager's wife, the driver, and shotgun rider had gone through. 

Samuel loaded his gun, trying to ignore the blood coating his own hands and the gore splattering his clothes. “Why don’t you just ask it? Halden why didn’t I let the wolf out earlier?” 

“Don’t have to ask, Sheriff; a three-form Werewolf is difficult to control, and each time you release the wolf you lose a little of yourself. So you keep it buttoned up as tight as that shirt collar you’re wearing. I can understand that, I'm just glad you let it out when you did,” Nick said.

Samuel opened his mouth to explain the real reason, that it was the first time he had ever changed, but he kept his own council; with Halden confident with his powers. Hewasn’t about to admit to a vampire, of all people, that he was lucky not to have changed back as some mutated beast locked in between forms. Instead he turned towards the kitchen.

One hard kick and the door was thrown open. Nick went in first, with Samuel at his heels; the place was like a slaughterhouse: Frank and Greg were slumped over a table, their blood dripping on the floor, their throats torn out. Mrs. Evans was missing; it was too dark to risk trying to catch her—that would have to wait for morning.

Quickly they made the blockhouse secure, taking turns on guard as the rest of them bedded down for the night. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning, Samuel put a hand out to block Nick when he went to open the door to go out. “Yesterday was overcast, more night than day, but even so, you’re a vampire. So how did your survive the daylight?”

Nick shook his head. “Samuel—I may call you Samuel?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I am a day walker. My blood needs are few and easily satisfied without killing. You needn’t fear. I am not about to burn to a cinder in front of you.” He smiled. “But your concern is touching.” 

Now with his wolf senses awakened, Samuel could scent Halden properly. The rich scent that came from the younger man made the scent he'd detected yesterday after his first change nothing but a poor imitation. It drew him to Halden; he was about to reach a hand out…. When he heard Abigail call his name. He drew back guiltily from this tantalizing morsel that the wolf in him was baying at him to take and possess what was his. When he turned back Halden, had his hat pulled down to shade his eyes and was heading towards the barn. A few minutes later he heard Halden call for him; he went running. 

What Samuel found inside of the barn was horrific. In his time as a soldier he had seen many things, but nothing to rival what he was looking at now. There were piles of bones covering the floor, some had been chewed others split open for the marrow. Among the bones were saddles some old the leather cracking, others trimmed with silver, rich or poor their owners had all suffered the same fate. Each told the sad story of a lone traveler murdered to feed the Evans and their growing pack.   
The next few hours were grim, and the last thing they did before leaving that cursed place was to put it to the flames But not before they collected together any evidence they could find on the poor souls that had been murdered by the ghouls. If they were lucky, some families might find peace knowing their loved ones had been found, even if the exact details were never told. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

24 Hours later

It was as an exhausted Samuel that drove the stagecoach towards Miller Creek. As he did so he turned his mind to what to do with Nick. He was sure that the gambler was wanted, and that a look through the wanted posters would confirm that. If that was the case he should have him arrested; that was the law. But without Nick and Mozzie, he and Abigail would have died, so this time natural justice could take precedence over the law. 

Samuel pulled the coach to a halt on the sprawling outskirts of Miller Creek, and watched as Nick and Mozzie got off. Nick looked up at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Sheriff, but hopefully this is the last time our paths will cross. So good luck to you and your lady.” 

There were a lot of things that Samuel could have said, but all he said was a gruff, “You’d both best keep your noses clean; I don’t want to see you on a poster any time soon.”

Nick laughed. “Too late for that, Samuel,” then tipped his hat to Abigail as she leaned out of the window, and waved as Samuel drove away. 

When Samuel pulled the team to a halt in front of the Sheriff’s office, and helped Abigail down from the coach, she leaned into him, resting her hand on his heart, then onto her own “it’s alright Samuel, I can feel him as well, there is nowhere that Mr Halden, can go that we won’t find him. Patience, my love, patience.” 

Logic told Samuel that he might never see them again, but he loved and trusted Abigail and if Abby said they would meet again he would believe her, and it would only be a matter of time before that the strange duo of Halden and Havisham would enter his.. no,.. their lives again.


	4. Chapter 4

The Present

Mozzie finished his story. “So the Badge let us go and we headed for the nearest saloon for a drink, and to find a real friendly poker game for Neal.”

He smiled fondly, “Turned out the locals there had more money than sense,” the small man said wistfully, remembering good times.

“What happened next, Mozzie? You can’t finish the story there,” El prompted. 

Just then Peter’s cell phone rang, and he was greeted by Neal’s cheerful voice. “The mortgage case—I know how they're doing it.” 

Peter was on his feet, grabbing for his coat, still talking on the cell. “Meet you in the office in 30.” He paused. “Don’t whine, Neal; it’s your own fault for solving it.” 

Pulling his coat on, Peter turned to Mozzie and El. “Keep the story until I get back.” Then with a kiss for El, he hurried out of the house. 

El waited for the door to close then asked eagerly. “Okay so what happens next...?” 

Mozzie smiled at the happy memories, but it was also tinged with sadness. “The four of us were together for a long time, and we visited a lot of places in the territories and had a good life. Neal loved Abigail and Samuel dearly, but in that time, he could have been hung for what he felt, and he was scared that they would turn him a way if they knew the depth of his feelings, thinking that he was unnatural even for a vampire. So he stayed by their side as their most trusted and loving friend, taking comfort in their love for him as a brother. Until he was finally forced to leave them because he wasn’t aging and by then the vampire cull had started and it wasn’t safe for them to be together. It broke his heart; the only thing that kept him going was that he believed that you would come back to him.” 

“Do you mean reincarnation?” She exhaled sharply, “I find that hard to believe,” El shrugged then shook her head as she conceded, “but all the same, I found it so easy to trust him, that first time he came to the house, I knew who he was, but I wasn’t frightened of him. I put it down to all those nights when Peter would talk about Neal, how smart he was, how special he was, at times it was as if I was sharing a home with them both…….. When he was hurt that time, I knew I had to care for him, and Peters concern for Neal was far beyond that of a handler for his charge…It all makes sense…..I suppose” 

“Exactly, Mrs. Suit. That was the bond you three have reasserting itself. Over the years Neal has searched out Samuels’s descendants. Each time he failed to sense the bond, he died a little inside. That was until the day he saw the Suit, outside of the bank, talking to one of the bank staff that was when he felt the bond, it was so strong he had to go across and talk to him, even though it risked putting him on the FBI’s radar.” 

“So he recognized, Samuel in Peter,” suddenly El shook her head, “the crafty little….. I remember Neal being at one of my parties, I didn’t see him myself but Peter said he saw him. He was checking me out wasn’t he?”

“He knew that if Samuel was Peter then you would have to be Abigail but he needed proof, and he could only have that by getting close to you. that the night he returned from that party he was so happy, until Kate laughed in his face, told him to choice between his dream and her reality. She told him to get real, and that because the Suit was FBI he could never have him and you, and that it was an impossible dream, and if he continued with this fantasy she would leave him. Neal couldn’t afford to lose her, and you know what happened next” 

El frowned, they had come close to losing Neal over Kate, and if the woman wasn’t dead already she would have cheerfully killed her herself for what she had done to Neal, attacking him where he was most vulnerable, if Kate had loved him, she would never have hurt him like that. 

Mozzie, continued, “After she died you both gave him a reason to live, without you he would have walked into the sun. It wasn’t just the Suits blood that healed him, it was the bond you three share, and he knew that he was safe with you, he could finally let himself believe, that he was finally home. That Mrs. Suit is the power that you both have over him, so treat him well, or answer to me.”

The End


End file.
